Sometimes I Don't Know
by EDogg367
Summary: A little story about Marisol I typed up while listening to a song that reminded me of Hard Love, by Ellen Wittlinger.


**Sometimes I Don't Know**

Marisol wasn't a very selfish girl- she was simply protective. Cautious, with good reason, too. It wasn't long ago that she had had her heart broken by _her_. That girl, that amazing girl, the one that got away: Kelly. Marisol hadn't been born sure of herself; she just became so, out of necessity. It wasn't easy coming out, and when you did, you had better be sure of yourself, or you'd be destroyed. Torn apart. And for what? Nothing? Marisol wasn't one to take huge risks like one coming out could be described as. The fact that she took it only proved that she was 100% sure. There was no turning back after she revealed her true self, the person she'd always been, but was too afraid to show. But damn, was it hard.

After she freed herself of the uncertainty, shame, fear, and guilt that came with realizing one's sexual identity, Marisol promised herself she'd be as truthful as life would allow her to be. She wouldn't run, she wouldn't hide, and she definitely wasn't going to cower. No, she was done with that, she was done with pretending, playing make-believe to make those around her happy. She was so damn sick of that. Marisol knew it'd be a hard road for her from the very moment she noticed a girl in "that way," but that was just the way she was. She couldn't help it, and that was the most painful part: the fact that she couldn't just be normal, that her mother would never see her very own, charming, young son-in-law, that her father would never live to see the day he would give his daughter away. That hurt. For a while, Marisol couldn't even look at her own reflection. She couldn't face that evil girl in the mirror, the woman who would crush her parents.

But when she finally told them, it wasn't as bad as she had feared it would be; she was expecting screaming, tears, blood, this whole intense, dramatic moment that would only end heart break and rejection. She gathered the family into the living room. Mom and Dad were sitting on the couch, joking around, smiling. How bad could anything Marisol said be? This was their little girl, their precious baby, their angel. Marisol's heart was racing, beating so hard, she thought it might leap out of her chest, escape her, rendering her unable to tell them. No; no, she couldn't let that happen. She had to do it now, or she'd never be able to go through with it. She'd regret it for the rest of her life.

"Mom, Dad?" she said, timidly fidgeting in the doorway. "Honey, sit down! I can barely hear you all the way over there, what, with you speaking so softly," replied her mother, smiling. Marisol hesitated, pain gracing her petite features. Could she really go through with this? Was this the right thing to do? How could she really even be sure? There was a fire blazing in Marisol's chest, an anger swelling so large, it might've consumed her. How could she be sure? What the hell kind of question was that? It was "now, or never," and here she was, shaky and nauseous, standing in front of her unsuspecting parents, asking herself if she was even sure about the step she was taking towards a better, if not, more honest life, was the "right thing to do." Dammit, why didn't she just do it already? This was so unfair, leading her parents on for so long, she should just tell them alre-

"I'm gay."

She stood frozen before her adoptive mother and father, ice chilling her entire being before her whole body went numb and began shaking uncontrollably. Her eyes moistened, and her mind went blank as a violent storm of fear, regret, and relief took hold of her heart. She silently examined her parents' facial expressions as her whole world rioted around her. "What?" Dad asked, tilting his head slightly to the side, confusion and curiosity written across his face. Had he heard her wrong? Surely she didn't say what he had thought she did. Mom was stunned. Her eyes a bit wide and mouth slightly agape, she merely stared at Marisol, unsure of what to say or do or think. Marisol gently gazed back, eyes as lifeless and fragile as that of an abused porcelain doll. She spoke more clearly, once more. Once more. "I'm a lesbian." Her father's look of confusion dissipated and shaped into a look of pure horror and surprise.

"…How can you be sure?"

They had a huge, uncomfortable discussion that night about it. Dad lost his cool; his usually laid-back, gentle demeanor was blasted away by a raging hurricane of anger, hurt, regret, and a bitter sadness that streamed down his face as he walked away from his wife and child. He couldn't handle Marisol's news. As Dad fled the scene, Marisol shook in her place on the loveseat in the living room with tears streaking down the soft curves of her cheeks. Mom glided gently to her rescue, sitting beside Marisol and putting her large arm around her daughter's tiny shoulders in a reassuring embrace. "Shhh, shhh; it's okay, dear. It's fine. Daddy just doesn't know what to do right now, it'll be alright. We love you, Marisol. Don't worry. It doesn't matter who you might like right now, we'll always love you, baby. Come on; let's sleep on this, alright? Go to your room, I'll worry about your father. I love you, darling. Good night."

Marisol would never forget the feeling of vulnerability and helplessness she felt as she climbed the stairs up to her bedroom. The most sickening feeling of rejection and disgrace flooded her. And it was this feeling that she carried with her from then on. It was this feeling that made her keep her guard up, that fueled the forced anger in her heart. The false anger and confidence that defined her was only the tip of the ice-burg.

So when she was finally able to date other girls, it was a big, exhilarating experience. She had a few girlfriends before _her_. They were okay, but not what she was looking for. Then _she_ came along and broke Marisol. And more walls came up, and less people were capable of breaking her anymore. She didn't give a damn about what other people thought. She wasn't selfish or conceited; she had morals and values, and she wouldn't stand any dickhead homophobe. She was sure of herself, confident, and proud.

And then she met Gio.

**Author's Note!**

****Hi! I hope you enjoyed this little spur of the moment piece I wrote. This is the first fanfiction I've ever written and uploaded- I hope it's not that bad(?)! I wrote this passage entirely to the song "Round Here," the version by Panic! at Disco. I found that song right after I finished reading Hard Love, actually, and it always sort of reminded me of the relationship between John and Marisol.

Just now, I found out that there's a companion book to Hard Love, one written in Marisol's point of view as she enters college; I've never read it before, and I'm sure that it depicts what actually happened when Marisol told her parents that she was homosexual. This is just what I thought might've happened.

I do hope to read that book. (It's entitled "Love and Lies: Marisol's Story," for those of you who are curious.)

I hope this story wasn't too... y'know?

Anyway, goodbye for now. R & R? :)

-Edogg


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